KATHERINE POV
The sun on my skin pulled me out of sleep.
It slid across my bare back like fingers — warm, slow, invasive.
I blinked against the light, throat dry, head heavy. The room still smelled like s*x and sweat and heat. Like them. Like me.
I was tangled in a mess of limbs.
Kyle’s arm was locked around my waist. Kendrick’s leg thrown over mine, his knee brushing too close to places still sore. Keegan had half his face buried in my neck, lips parted, breath hot. Kingsley was behind me, hand low on my stomach, fingers splayed like a brand. Possessive, even in sleep.
My body ached.
My thighs. My spine. My throat. As if they'd all left fingerprints on me in different languages. I didn’t hate it. I liked it, actually — that wrecked feeling, like I’d been undone and pieced back toge
